What Valar Did to Me and My Poor Life
by noodlepancake
Summary: Vanafindiel ran away from her life in Rivendell to escape betrothal. Her path becomes tangled with a certain Marchwarden. Why can't she escape betrothal for good? Well only the Valar knows. You will too. A love story, you ask? Well is Haldir foxy? You bet
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. I only know what I know from The movies and other fanfictions... deal with it.

Pre-Fellowship, but not by much. Let me know about mistakes, this is my first fanfiction. Please review and let me know what you think! Criticism is welcome. 

I ran, and not gracefully, which is rather uncharacteristic for an elf. I was quite lost considering I have before left my home in Rivendell, and I could only pray to Valar that I was somewhere near Lolthlorien.

And just what could a young-ish she-elf traveling alone during times of unease and unrest mean by such an excursion? That I am an absolute idiot? That I was most definitely tossed from a tree when I was a young elfing? Those may be true, but honestly, what would you do if your parents were leaving you, an only child, behind while they were planning to set sail for Valinor? And to have that not be the end of it, but to make the situation even more incredible horrid to decide that because of their leaving, they were planning an arranged marriage for you with an abominable elf Lord who deemed himself "Lord of the Ladies"?

Undoubtedly this narcissistic elf is extremely well off, which must be the only reason why my parents would arrange such a travesty of a betrothal. They want me to lead a comfortable life so they feel slightly less orc-ish for leaving me for the undying lands. However they seemed to forget this infamous Lords... well infamy.

I ran away from home and set out for the any elf realm that was far away enough from the groping hands of the "Lord of the Ladies". I left all my belongings behind along with a note that merely said, "Gohena amin". I figured by the time the sea calls to me we all might be able to forgive each other. But not now. I am not feeling too forgiving for now. I never wanted to marry for anything less than affection and my parents were more than willing to throw all chances of future happiness for me. What other choice did I have?

So here I am, somewhere near (or else I am completely screwed) Lothlorien, somehow scantily-clad when I was properly attired when I left my home, running for my dear life from a deranged rogue elf. Clearly Valar seems to hate me. I have been traveling for a number of days I haven't bothered to count to escape the clutches of "Lord of the Ladies" only to now be pursued by this creepy elf that obviously plans to do a lot more than to only mentally undress me. I was terrified, and because this sick elf can hardly be considered company, I am also terribly alone. I had managed to throw this elf, let us deem him "The Creeper", off taking my path to the stream nearby and from there into the treetops above. I probably have only gained an hour lead, but the Golden Wood of Lothlorien's outskirts seem to lie ahead.

Exhausted, I sat down on a limb and began to pluck the small rounded leaves and short twigs out from the tangled mess that only a few days before was my long auburn waved hair. I let out a sigh when I realized that until I had a bath, there was not much more I could do. I let my hand fall into my lap as I lead back against the trunk. My breathing quieted a little. How was I a magnet for the bane of the male elf-kind? I mean, I am no Arwen after all- not that I am an unfortunate-looking elf (if that is even possible). My hazel eyes darted to my pale, slender form, but upon finding nothing of intrigue there, rolled in a very unlady-like fashion. I don't think I would ever understand what some elves saw in me.

I looked down towards the wood on my left to have a small pillar of smoke, only a mile off, meet my unsuspecting glance. Evidence of civilization at last!

"Oh merciful-" was all I managed to exclaim before I fell out of my resting tree out of mere surprise. "- Valar you suck, no offense..." I finished in a mutter. I laboriously picked myself up from the unforgiving ground below and wiped off the blood that was threatening to sully my dress even further. Was I now a sight for sore eyes? Most likely. Did I have time to care? Of course not. For low and behold, when Valar opens one door, he slams a window in your face. The Creeper had found me. He stood maybe 50 yards away, and even from that distance I could see the twisted malicious look in his eye. I silently cursed myself for losing track of time in that stupid tree as I took off in the direction of the smoke. My only hope of being saved.

I soon realized that I had no idea what I would find once I raced towards this camp fire. For all I know it could be Orcs. Or even worse the "Lord of the Ladies".

I was sprinting back for towards the stream, checking over my shoulder to calculate the distance between me and a terrible fate when I tripped and suddenly found myself in an unbreakable grasp with a blade looming over my throat. My eyes clenched shut at the unexpected contact as I carefully turned around to face my attacker. The Creeper was just behind me, did he magically appear before me just now? I must be going mental. I hesitantly pried one eye open to look upon the face that belonged to the hand that held this knife. Dark brown, dangerous eyes glared at me. Huh. I thought the Creeper had blue eyes...

I opened my other eye and then sucked in a quick, hollow breath.

I had found civilization and this handsome elf is definitely not my potential rapist. But now it looks like I have found my potential killer. Honestly Valar, why don't you just smite me and get it over with instead of torturing me with all of these terrible foes. I peer down at the knife that was being held even closer to my neck and back into the face of my capturer. His beautiful elf face was distorted with anger and... embarrassment? My first thought was of my clearly indecent attire. It was rather tattered and torn, if you can imagine, with the kind of luck I had. He probably was shocked to see a lady dressed in such a way. But as I glanced down a caught a glimpse nearly naked elf before the iron grip tightened on my arm and the knife drew a few drops of blood. I hastily averted my attention to his face again. Oops. It appears as if I had intruded on someone's bath time.

He was looking over my shoulder as he swore under his breath. He released his hold on me, which surprised me for a second time in one day. And of course I fell out of this surprise. It seems like my bath-buddy didn't even notice that he had practically shoved me to the ground. What is it with males with no manners? Why do I invariably run into them?

"Traitor," this fearsome elf snarled, "You are banished from these lands. Be gone!"

"Haldir, it seems you have found something that I would like very much to be returned to me." The Creeper purred throwing a glinted glance in my direction. I gulped uncomfortably.

"Well unfortunately for you, I care nothing for what you would like. And it is Marchwarden to you, you filth." This Haldir character spat.

The Creeper sighed and put his hand out in a reaching gesture, "Just hand the lady over and we shall have no qualm."

They advanced towards and circled around each other leaving me momentarily forgotten in the background.

"I will hand over nothing to the likes of you. Especially not a lady." Came the frosty reply from the Marchwarden.

"You can have your turn with her when I am done. Do not fear, Haldir! You know I never had a problem with sharing." The Creeper laughed gaily.

"You sicken me" was the only reply that the Creeper received before Haldir deftly dealt a blow to the Creeper's head with the hilt of his blade. The rapist slumped to the ground and succumbed to unconsciousness.

The handsome elf stood there silently for a moment before he seemed to remember the cause of the unpleasant encounter. Namely, me. He turned and briskly walked to where I was sitting unceremoniously on the forest floor, yanked me up to my feet and resumed the same position, pre-Creeper encounter. So once again I had a knife to my throat. Mind you he was kind enough to position it on a different mark, as to not deepen the cut he already made on my flesh. I furrowed my brows in frustration and asked him if this was a traditional custom for greeting lady-travelers.

"You don't look like a lady." Came his clipped retort.

I frowned. "That is not very nice." He certainly was no charmer.

He simply raised his dark, pristine brow.

I made to step back to explain myself when I tripped on Valar-knows-what behind me dragged the Marchwarden down with me. My back broke both our falls. "I really need to stop falling" was what crossed my mind just as I heard a throat clear from my side. The Marchwarden and I both look over to see an elf smirking in our direction.

"Haldir… I did not mean to interrupt, but we make for the home within the hour." Laughed the elf, who quickly skipped back the way he came.

"What is he laughing about?" I asked annoyed. I was seriously getting really weary of the male gender. They either try to rape you, try to kill you, or just laugh at you! The audacity of them all is enough to make me swear them off for good.

I only received an even more powerful glare- if you can believe it. He lifted himself up and hastily dressed himself by the side of the stream.

Then it dawned on me. We were caught red-handed in what appeared to be a passionate embrace. With the both of us less than decent. Well… that happens sometimes, right? You know, I actually don't think it really does… Oh Valar, you really do hate me, don't you?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer- I don't own LOTR.

Hello and thank you to all of those who are reading this! Comments, questions, and criticisms are more than welcome to me. They are actually helpful seeing that I am new to _writing_ fanfictions, I am normally just _reading_ them. So please leave a review and let me hear your thoughts.

* * *

I think I sat there in the grass for few minutes before I realized that he had gone. What was I supposed to do, follow him? Perhaps. But as I was painfully ascending to my feet, it finally hit me that I had no idea what I was doing. I had no plan whatsoever. The frown in my face grew steadily as these thoughts kept coming. What did I expect to happen? That I could just run away and have a new life ready and waiting for me? How daft could I be?

Now I am in a forest, a beautiful wood, but I don't even care because I am all alone, without a plan, and without a sense of belonging.

As I made to move the fallen hair from my braid out of my face my hand made contact with cold, foreign liquid that was streaming down my cut cheeks.

Was I crying now? I thought of how pathetic I must seem- thank Valar that I am completely abandoned in an unfamiliar forest! No one has to see. And then the thought of irony made me laugh out a rather strangled sound, but I felt a ghost of a smile grace my face nonetheless. One of the things that has me so upset I am also strangely grateful for. Bizarre how life can be sometimes. Hah. I even thanked Valar for once in my life. How odd. Maybe he will have heard my thanks and be a bit kinder to me.

"Are you crying?"

Crap. I snap my head up to see the same elf who had left me to my misery minutes before curiously peering at me. Well, so much for being on Valar's good side. This is embarrassing. I never have even seen myself cry before and now this proud Marchwarden is studying my dampened facial features. He is probably disgusted with how weak I appear, crying like a spineless, pride less pansy. I bet he wouldn't do that. Maybe I can…

"_No..._ I was just washing my face-" I said evenly as I began looking around for the stream to make my story believable. Where was the stream again? Err…

He was scrutinizing me now, not believing me, and watching me glance around in a panic for that elusive stream.

"with… tears…" I finished lamely and then proceeded to hide my face with my dirty hands. Complete and utter humiliation summed up what my feelings were right about then.

A sudden constricted sound pulled me out of my pity-party session and my eyes rested upon the elf- get this- chuckling at me! Albeit he was trying to hold it in, he evidently still found my distress something of entertainment. How rude.

My look of anger must have silenced him. He quickly composed his features into what I expect was his normal mask of indifference and coldness.

"May I enquire as to what brings you grief, my lady?"

"How about my name?"

"What do you mean about your name?" Poor elf, he genuinely looked confused.

"Wouldn't it not make more sense for you to ask my name before you demand to know what pains me? Is that not customary?"

He looked a bit taken aback at my impatient explanation.

"Who said anything about demands?"

"Will you quit it!" He was really starting to frustrate me.

"Quit what, my lady?"

"Stop answering my questions in questions."

"Oh, that."

I muttered something about a 'yes, that' a bit stonily.

"So what it then? Your name I mean."

"I thought you said you would stop!" I cried angrily.

He looked like he was trying to bite back a smile as he replied, "You didn't ask a question though, my lady."

Oh, right. His elf ears could pick up my grumbling. He is too annoyingly observant.

"Vanafindiel of Rivendell." I introduced myself.

He did not even bother to conceal his amusement this time. The Marchwarden barked a short musical laugh. A rather attractive laugh; the sort of laugh I would want to hear again. But just not at my expense. I quickly quieted my traitorous thoughts.

"I am sorry, but your name -" he struggled to control his fit of man-giggles "means beautiful hair."

"And?" I prompted stiffly. What is he on about?

"Well, perhaps you were misnamed?"

"You are doing it again." I was more annoyed with another question-answer than the insult. "And for your information, this is not the natural appearance of my hair. Or dress for that matter…" I said as I glanced down at my tattered dress.

The attention on the latter seemed to make him a bit uncomfortable as he shifted his weight and nodded, quite recovered from his laughing outburst I might add.

"Yes, well. I brought these for you," he walked up and handed me a pair of tight breeches and green tunic, "I thought that you might appreciate something clean to wear."

Well that was actually nice. I was beginning to think that this elf had only one mode of personality: asshole. I murmured my thanks, still a bit confused from his sudden mood swing.

"And you can bathe if you'd like. I will make sure no one will disrupt." He cast a meaningful glance in my direction. Heh heh, awkward. I blushed slightly recalling the situation that had occurred here not so long ago.

"Right, so I will leave you to it. Just follow my path when you are done. We shall leave within the hour." And with that he turned around and I noted the path he took back to camp.

"…Thank you." I offered a bit late. Even eleven hearing could barely pick up my silent whisper.

Dumbfounding that elf is. I sighed and shrugged off the Marchwarden's disorienting temper. I was a mess, and a bath was beckoning me. I undid my tresses, stepped out of my "dress" and waded my way into the welcome of the water.

* * *

I made my way to the camp site, following the lightly trodden path that meandered through the trees. I began to see just why this forest is called the Golden Wood; the leaves of the trees began to take on an increasingly yellow glimmer as I made way deeper into the woodland realm.

A few minutes later the wood gave way to a small clearing. I had found the camp. A company of elves were packing up camp. I tugged the ends of the borrowed tunic that was much to big for me a bit self-consciously as I scanned the group for a familiar face. I saw none.

I exhaled a frustrated breath as I debated how to present myself, a complete stranger, to the border-watchers ahead of me. What do I say? Explain the whole situation? No, I think not. That might be too uncomfortable to talk about that whole… situational encounter. And I am in these clothes which obviously are not my own. Maybe they have been informed-

"Lady Vanafindiel, I have been instructed to bring you this horse. Is it tolerable?" A playfully smug elf asked interrupting my jumbled thoughts.

Wait a minute. I retract one of my former statements. I remember THIS face. This is the elf who came upon the Marchwarden and me in our… predicament. Yes, predicament.

I stifled the blush that was threatening to light my face afire. I don't want to give this elf any more reason for suspicion.

"It will do fine, I thank you. Why, may I ask, has a horse been requested to my service?" I asked politely.

"We are traveling to make our report to the Lord and Lady of Lorien of recent findings."

"Am I in the report, then?" I asked tentatively worried about what might become of me.

"Hmm? Findings? Oh yes," he was grinning widely now, "you are quite the find, now aren't you? Pity my brother found you first."

Cue confusion. Brother? Oh. Well he looks a bit like-

"Haldir was mistaken. I can easily understand your namesake, my lady Vanafindiel."

Honestly if that stupid smile of his grew any larger I thought his mouth might fall off. My aforementioned namesake had been ridded of the tangles and foliage and was in a much more presentable braid after bathing. I was just smoothing errant hairs back when I finally realized that he had addressed my name not only once, but twice already. How did he know my name? I repeated my query.

"Well what kind of sibling would I be if I did not spy on my brother?" he asked innocently.

I grimaced. "Well I suppose there is no need to recap our conversation then?"

"Careful now," he wagged his finger at me with a sudden mask of seriousness appearing on his face, "don't go answering questions with questions."

He was mocking me. He laughed merrily at the scowl that was on my face.

"Go on, mount your horse, we leave for the palace." The elf gave me a leg up onto the mare.

I situated myself on the grey back of the horse and looked up. Ahead of me a the group of marchwardens were already mounted on their steeds. The elf beside me, gracefully swung himself onto his horse.

"I am Rumil, by the way."

"I would introduce myself, but then it would only be out of formality. You already seem to know." I couldn't help but smile at him for the first time today. His antics were beginning to grow on me. "And you also don't seem like the formal type."

"Indeed, you are correct, O wise Lady." Came the jovial reply from my companion.

A raised voice called out Rumil's name. We both looked up from our conversation. Haldir engaged Rumil in a silent conversation that ended when the former nodded and turned his horse around.

"You should go on up now to the front, as the Lord Marchwarden, Haldir will escort you to Lothlorien," Rumil said ceremoniously. However it seemed that he couldn't help but add a sing-song, "But remember, I am always watching!"

I rolled my eyes and spurred my horse onward.


End file.
